“And yet you refuse to give evidence that may assist in bringing his destroyer to justice.”
“No; I don’t refuse on that score. I should like his destroyer to be hanged, and I’d go to see it. But who knows what other questions you may be asking me, about things that concerned neither you nor anybody else? That’s why I object.”
“We have only to deal with what bears upon the murder. The questions put to you will relate to that.”
Afy considered. “Well, you may swear me, then,” she said.
Little notion had she of the broad gauge those questions would run upon. And she was sworn accordingly. Very unwillingly yet; for Afy, who would have told lies by the bushel unsworn, did look upon an oath as a serious matter, and felt herself compelled to speak the truth when examined under it.
“How did you become acquainted with a gentleman you often saw in those days—Captain Thorn?”
“There,” uttered the dismayed Afy. “You are beginning already. He had nothing to do with it—he did not do the murder.”
“You have sworn to answer the questions put,” was the uncompromising rejoinder. “How did you become acquainted with Captain Thorn?”
“I met him at Swainson,” doggedly answered Afy. “I went over there one day, just for a spree, and I met him at a pastrycook’s.”
“And he fell in love with your pretty face?” said Lawyer Ball, taking up the examination.